


Stress Response

by Aequitas_Arisen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/F, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:01:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aequitas_Arisen/pseuds/Aequitas_Arisen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Rose is on Alternia, living a horrifically depressing life. Jade is lost, Earth is completely conquered. Now, humans dwindle in numbers, constantly killed, traded, and transported around the planet. Rose has some deep thoughts concerning human nature whilst withstanding her ordeal. Little does she know, certain trolls are on her side.  </p><p>Interestingly, this started as a porn fic. I don't know why, when, or how it morphed into this sci-fi AU where humans are slaves on Alternia. Nothing new, but I kinda felt like I could play around with it, and maybe make it work.  My intent really isn't to be original. Think what you may desire to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Response

**Author's Note:**

> Should this work have multi-chapters? What direction do you want it to go? you decide!

It is cold here. It’s always cold. The slave “quarters” for humans is little more than a large basement level, more cramped and dirtier than that of even the lowest blooded slaves. We are lower than even the lowest blood. Because we are humans.  
I curl closer in the dirty rag on the edge of the room, trying to cover everything of myself. Most have nothing to conceal their regions. Most have stopped caring, or there aren’t enough rags to go around. Most likely the latter. Even I had to fight and scratch tooth and nail like an animal for just this filthy yard of cloth. It’s pathetic.  
I refuse to join the pile of bodies at the center of the room, but the alternative is shivering next to these stones. It’s dark, with only a shaft of light streaming from the corner of the ceiling, where stairs led to a trap door.  
For, days, perhaps even weeks, I’ve been working my way towards that light. My limbs have become atrophied, I don’t think my health could possibly be worse, and I am very hungry, but everyone is. But no creature should forget the light.  
When one person shifts, I gain a few inches. Sometimes I gain a foot or two, but not often. This has become the focus of my existence. The thing to distract me from the others, who screech at each other, almost as if they have completely forgotten that they are human at all. People who were once teachers, artists, lawyers, even a congressman lies in the pile, have been reduced to livestock.  
Like me, there are few who choose to hold themselves in a fetal ball away from the others. We’ll die first. I no longer care. I’m a mere 5 feet off target. Perhaps a week more. So close.  
The invasion was swift, drones and troops flooded the ground from battleships that appeared in the sky, followed by a napalm-like substance dropped on the cities. Some tried to fight back, but our leaders and defenses surrendered to Her Imperious Condescension. All that meant is that some of us would be brutally enslaved, and the rest would die in chemical storms.  
They took the cities first, then the forces fanned into rural areas, snatching up every human they came across, except the babies and the elderly.  
I really don’t want to think about what happened to them.  
All in all, what was left of the human race was slaves on the surface, slaves on Alternia, and cities filled with corpses. Approximately 3 million.  
3 million out of over 7 billion people.  
Who knows how many now?  
That was 6 years ago.  
I’ve mostly stopped thinking about seeing those things happen, and more about where Jade might be. At first, we didn’t know why, but every so often, we would be separated into groups, separate shuttles, separate places. We held hands and kept our heads high, and walked towards the transport. Some were directed to the left, and some to the right. As long as you still looked strong you were directed to the right. Only the weakest and tiredest were directed to the left. We both supposed that since were still being moved around, and not worked to death, that we would continue to go right.  
But several months ago, we held hands once again, but she kept nodding off, and was directed to the left. I screamed for her, but was whacked in the head and she was lost her in the current of bodies. I briefly considered grabbing that stick the blueblood uses and beating him with it.  
Now, I prefer to convince myself that the left is more favorable. Perhaps it is, if it’s anything other than sitting stationary in a big, dirty hole.  
A loud noise echoes through the ceiling and half-rotten vegetables and some sort of spongy meat rinds fall from the chute in the ceiling onto the pile of people huddled together.  
The frenzy is immediate. People scramble for scraps, shouting and pushing.  
Some of the people nearest the stairs to get closer to the chaotic hashing.  
Here’s my chance!  
I crawl quickly toward the stairs, and where I expect a lovely beam of light on my face, there’s only a long shadow of a blueblood standing on the stairs over me, and I head butt right into his boots.  
Oh shit.  
Next thing I feel is that excruciating fiery pain of being yanked up by my hair, and I’m thrown up onto the stairs. I have to clamber to my feet before I get another blow or am trampled by the others filing upward into the light with watering eyes. Before long, a lengthy line is formed down the expanse of the holding area. They seem to shrink and slouch, their dignity gone, and their gazes downcast, and we are all half-naked and filthy. I force my chin upwards and my shoulders back. I absolutely refuse to have my pride taken from me.


End file.
